Oh, Boy—Danny!

Danny DeVito, alone, comes around the bar with a drink and stands a few feet away.

Intermission at a Broadway show. Rhea Perlman was good, and so was the guy from _Spin City,_ though the show was pretty forgettable. The title, for example, escapes me.

I'm sitting next to my brother on a bench sipping a Coke that cost too much. Danny DeVito, alone, comes around the bar with a drink and stands a few feet away.

We're tourists, a family of four from Nebraska, so we had seen him in his seat before the show began and gushed to one another, "That's Danny DeVito! Look!" And we all craned our necks to see.

Young enough to be a little stupid, I end up staring at him for too long. I can't believe he's right there. I've seen him in movies. Oh, my God! Wow.

He notices.

I don't know what it is—maybe I lack a certain set of social skills or confidence in myself, but I'm unable to move or respond. Frozen.

Danny DeVito nods his head. "Hey," he says. The murmur from the rest of the lobby seems loud.

He turns away. Intermission ends a few minutes later.

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